Firefly
by softydog88
Summary: Castle and Beckett take a romantic trip to a secluded lake and discover a dead body. They then do what they do (second) best.
1. Chapter 1

_Firefly_

_Chapter One_

"_What is life? It is the flash of a firefly in the night."_

_-Siksika Chief Crowfoot_

_He had been fishing at the lake for two hours with no luck, but he wasn't discouraged. This was paradise as far as he was concerned. The lake was still, there was a chill breeze in the air and the clouds were dark, and heavy with snow. He knew the fish wouldn't be likely to bite in this weather, but he didn't care. The stress of being a New York lawyer had always taken its toll, but being here with Julia was rejuvenating. This was what he needed in his life – a week to get away, to unplug, to forget about clients and billable hours and bitter judges and just be in love. He exhaled hard, watching his breath leave him in little puffs of steam. He opened his Thermos and took a swig of hot chocolate – the last one in the bottle, it turned out. The only sounds were the gentle waves brushing up against the pier and the occasional howl of a hungry coyote – that is until he heard footsteps behind him. They were slow, careful steps and they were getting closer. _

"_I know you're there," he said playfully. "I'm sorry, but I haven't caught any fish. We'll just have to make do with what we have in the cooler." _

_He stood up and turned around just in time to see a shovel slicing through the air toward his head. There was no time to dodge the blow, and the crunch of steel on his skull knocked him on his back. The world started to spin; he held his hand to his head and brought it, now wet with blood, in front of his face, but all he could see through the haze was the shovel, raised over his head menacingly. He was gasping for air and he fought the urge to close his eyes and surrender. _

"_Who are you?" he managed to say. "What do you want?"_

_For an answer, he got another blow to the head. He shifted right and left, vainly trying to elude the next blow, but the shovel found its mark again. His right palm reached the end of the pier, and he knew he had to somehow make a stand. He held up his hands to shield himself, but the shovel found the space between them and smashed into his head once more, driving him ever backward. He felt himself slowly sliding off the pier and reached out in vain, clutching at the air in manic thrusts. Then, suddenly, his momentum carried him into the frigid lake, just as the first snow of the season began to fall on his watery grave._

* * *

><p>"Hurry up, Castle!" shouted Beckett as she waited at the door with a packed suitcase. "I want to leave before the traffic gets all crazy."<p>

Castle peered out from behind a wall and said "don't blame me for what you're about to see. You won't tell me where we're going, so I have no idea what to pack. That makes this all your fault."

He stepped into the living room with a suitcase in each hand and placed them next to Beckett. She rolled her eyes and opened the door, but Castle stopped her.

"I'll be right back," he said, and a moment later, he dropped two more suitcases at Beckett's feet. "Just one more to go and then we'll be on our way."

"Are you kidding me? We're only leaving town for a few days, not going on an around-the-world cruise."

Castle's mouth popped open and froze in an 'o' of shock. "You're taking me to a nudist colony, aren't you? Lake Flaccid? I bookmarked its web page for you."

"Yeah, and I deleted it. We're _not _going to a nudist colony, and we never will. So forget about packing for every contingency and just bring one bag with a change of clothes and a toothbrush. You'll be fine."

"I can do that – _if_ you don't care what I look like in public."

"I don't care as much as you do, that's for sure. But don't worry – we won't be in public much. The place we're going to is pretty secluded."

"Really? I have to admit that's rather appealing after the busy spring we had." He put his arms around Beckett and drew her close. "A nice, out-of-the-way, romantic locale. A little candlelight, a nice Napa Valley Merlot, a big, soft bed and you."

He kissed her, cradling her head with his hands, and took his time about it.

"Is that it?" Beckett said when he finally came up for air. "Can we go now?"

"Yep. Let's go."

* * *

><p>They had only been driving for an hour, but Castle, who when he wasn't writing had the attention span of a Central Park squirrel on cocaine, was doing his best impression of a five year-old on his first trip to Disneyland.<p>

"Are we there yet?" he asked for the hundredth time in the last twenty minutes.

"Actually, we already passed it. I just wanted to go a few miles down the road and see what the view looks like from the opposite direction." Beckett coaxed her car to the side of the road, smiled at Castle, then made a u-turn.

"Are you kidding me?"

"Yes," she replied, "I'm kidding. But I'm going to turn around every time you ask me that and it will take twice as long to get there as it should. So be a good little boy and watch a video on your iPad or something while I drive." She patted him on the leg and made another u-turn.

"Fine," Castle said with an air of resignation. He turned on the radio just in time to hear a commercial.

_Come to lovely Lake Flaccid, near the shores of Lake Placid._

_Don't be a prude, stay with us and be nude._

_Get your hiney tattooed, and enjoy our great food._

_Want your nuptials renewed? _

_We can do it in style with a great attitude. _

_We're not crude,_

_We're not lewd,_

_So you'll surely conclude_

_You'll leave lovely Lake Flaccid without being screwed!_

"Please?" said Castle with more pleading in his tone than Beckett had ever heard. "You heard the commercial. It's fate."

She wisely ignored him.

* * *

><p>"Wake up, Castle. We're here." Beckett nudged him a few times and he awoke with a yawn.<p>

"Here," she said, tossing him a handkerchief, "wipe the drool off your chin."

Castle stepped out of the car and took in the surroundings. "It's beautiful, Beckett. Where are we?"

"We're at my dad's cabin near Iroquois Lake. And before you ask, we're over 200 miles from Lake Flaccid, so let it go, please."

"I promise," Castle said, holding up his right hand as though taking an oath.

"Here," Beckett said, "help me put the groceries away. Then we can go for a nice walk."

"You got groceries?"

"You were asleep, and you kept saying 'Sinestro,' so I thought it was best not to wake you."

"Oh, yeah. I was listening to a Green Lantern podcast. It's fascinating, really. DC Comics just introduced a new character..."

The look on Beckett's face told Castle all he needed to know and he clamped his mouth shut. Beckett popped the trunk and they took the groceries inside.

"This place is great," Castle said as he looked around the cabin. "Central heating, refrigerator, TV, DVD player. How long has your father owned it?"

"Since before I was born. My mother told me I was conceived here. That was more than I wanted to know, though." Beckett smiled at the memory of her mother.

"Weird. My mother told me where I was conceived, too. It was a safe house. Dad was on the run from the KGB, and they holed up in a tiny apartment on the outskirts of London. Mom said that with her getting pregnant there, it wasn't so safe after all."

Beckett laughed, and walked toward Castle, shedding her clothes in the process. "You know, Castle, there's a precedent that's been set here. This seems to be pretty fertile ground."

Castle plopped onto the bed and looked up at Beckett as she shed her bra. "I can't believe I was willing to share this vision with a bunch of total strangers," he said.

"Shut up and make love to me, Castle."

So he did.

* * *

><p>They awoke in near darkness. "Shoot," said Beckett, "I was hoping to go for that walk before the sun went down. I wanted to show you the lake."<p>

Castle looked at his watch. "It's only 7:30. The sun won't set for another hour or so. We can still go for a walk if you want."

Beckett smiled. "Let's do it. I'll bring the lantern so we can find our way back."

The were outside the cabin a few minutes later. "This is perfect," Castle said. "I have a feeling we're going to see something special."

"What's that, Castle?"

"You'll just have to wait and find out."

They walked hand in hand, Beckett leading the way. The drone of crickets, normally something to be ignored, was somehow magical in this setting. "I have so many good memories from here," Beckett said. "Fishing with dad, hiking with mom, collecting rocks and flowers, drawing pictures of the lake. I even rode my dirt bike along these very trails. I'm really happy to share this with you, Rick."

"I'll bet you you looked cute in a little helmet and knee pads."

"Not as cute as you think. I was usually pretty banged up. I'd arrive in good shape and leave with an assortment of cuts, scrapes and bruises. Mom always brought extra first aid supplies when we came up here."

Castle stopped. "I have a feeling we're on the right track," he said. "Let's leave the path for a few minutes."

They walked along, Castle pushing bushes out of the way, and came to a clearing. Castle looked at the sky. "It's just about time, Beckett. Let's wait here for a bit."

They didn't have to wait long. The first one appeared, a brief flash of light that pierced the darkness.

"Lightning bugs!" Beckett said joyously. She turned off the lantern and held Castle's hand.

"Lightning bugs? Fireflies!"

They stood there watching the fireflies dart about, reveling in their personal light show courtesy of Mother Nature. A few more sparked and waned, then dozens, then hundreds and finally thousands of little, infinitesimally brief supernovas – a galaxy of tiny suns all living out their lives in a fraction of a second before dying in a spectacular gift to the cosmos.

"It's so beautiful," Beckett said.

"I've long felt a mystical connection to the firefly," said Castle. "I used to take Alexis to the Hamptons when she was a little girl and she spent night after night trying to catch one in a Mason jar. She was so proud when she finally succeeded. And then she couldn't stop crying when it died. She was only seven, but it profoundly affected her and she clung to me for hours. That was the first time I felt that she was closer to me than to her mother." He sighed, and Beckett rested her head on his shoulder while the fireflies danced in the dark.

* * *

><p>The following morning, they woke up early, feeling refreshed. After a shockingly erotic shower and a bacon and egg breakfast, they decided to take another hike.<p>

"To the lake!" declared Beckett as they began their trek.

"I can't get over it," said Castle after they had been walking for a few minutes. "It's just gorgeous up here. Clean air, beautiful trees, wild flowers, stunning rock formations." He stopped a few times to make a video "for Alexis" and after a bit, they made their way to the top of a hill and spied Iroquois lake for the first time. Its surface was like an enormous mirror. Beckett smiled at Castle then turned toward the lake and started running.

"Catch me, Castle!" she said, and he took off after her. He caught her just in front of the pier, and he picked her up and spun her around. They collapsed in a heap, laughing like school children who had just heard a good dirty rhyme about their teacher.

"I hope you brought some bug spray," Castle said. "There's mosquitoes all over the pier."

Beckett looked over. "I think those are flies, Castle. Must be a dead animal in the water or something."

Castle pulled out his phone. "I'll call 911. Maybe they can send out animal control or something. That's a health hazard."

"I'll go see what it is," Beckett said. She got to the end of the pier, brushing flies away from her face, and peered into the water. She gasped in shock, then ran back to where Castle was.

"Why does this always happen to us?" she asked rhetorically.

"Why does what always happen to us?"

"It's not a dead animal, Castle. It's a dead body."


	2. Chapter 2

_Firefly_

_Chapter Two_

_The easy part was over. The murder itself was a trifle, a blip in the night, like a firefly's lamp – bright, brief, and then it was on to other things. Things distasteful but important; disposal had to be done just right for the plan to work. "I must be methodical, thorough; I mustn't be careless or hasty." It was a practically a mantra, repeated often through the years for everything from homework to writing amicus briefs. First, the body. It could not be discovered too soon or the timeline would collapse. A glance over the pier showed it had not sunk on its own. An assortment of small boulders, which dotted the area like chocolate chips on a cookie, did the trick. Next, the pier must be cleansed. A few minutes with a scrub brush and some detergent took care of that. The snow, now falling rapidly, wasn't a hindrance; it actually helped the process, and the slushy, soapy, bloody mixture went tumbling into the water with ease, leaving behind no visible trace of the earlier...activity. Lastly, the shovel. A quick once-over with alcohol removed most of the blood, but a few drops remained, in a hard-to-detect spot on the back, just where the wooden handle met the blade shaft. A forensic examination would find it, of course, plus the remnants of the rest of the blood, exactly as planned. The murder weapon then took its place inside a tiny shed right next to the cabin owned by Mr. Jim Beckett and the murderer locked the shed and departed the scene._

* * *

><p>"A dead body?" asked Castle. "Are you sure?"<p>

"Am I _sure?_" said Beckett incredulously.

"Sorry. It's just that I wasn't expecting that." He heard a voice on the phone and turned his attention to the operator.

"I want to report a dead body. Yes, a human body. The pier at Iroquois Lake. What? No, we don't know who it is. Rick Castle, and I'm here with NYPD detective Kate Beckett. No, it's not part of an investigation - we just stumbled upon it. Yes, it _is_ some coincidence. Listen, can you just send the police out here? No? A park ranger, then. Oh, come on! Surely you must have something in place for this contingency. Manhattan, twelfth precinct. Her cell? 212-555-3408. OK, I'll hold."

He turned to Beckett. "You won't believe this, but the operator is calling Gates. She wants to make sure you're legit before she sends someone out here, like this is a prank call."

"She'll only get the desk sergeant today," Beckett said. Castle held up his hand as the operator came back on the line.

"Yes, I appreciate that operator, but there's always a first time. OK, thanks. We'll stay here and wait for them. Bye."

"I don't suppose she gave you an ETA," Beckett said.

"Nope. She just asked you to hold down the fort while we wait."

"I have my gun on me, but I left my shield at the cabin. It's in my backpack. Would you go get it? I should stay here in case they show up expecting to find a detective and wind up with you."

Beckett instantly regretted what she said. "I didn't mean it that way, Castle. It's just that no matter how many cases you help us with, you're not a detective. It was only a statement of fact, not a put down."

He tried to look hurt, but a smile broke though the pout and he kissed Beckett. "I know," he said. "I'll be back soon."

* * *

><p>Castle found the shield and headed back to the lake. He was happy, despite the fact that the day had taken a sour turn. He and Beckett still had the rest of their vacation together, meaning there was still plenty of time to have fun. So the park rangers would show up for a while. A quick explanation would suffice and then the local coroner could take over and that would be that. He and Beckett would be back in bed at the cabin in no time, ready for round two of the old shake, rattle and roll. He tossed the shield into the air and began whistling a little ditty. A car drove up behind him and he turned his head as Beckett's shield hit the ground.<p>

"Freeze!"

Castle saw a green SUV with U.S. Forest Service painted on its doors. "Good to see you," he said as a young, thin man in an over-sized Smokey The Bear hat came charging toward him. "I can show you where the body is."

"Not so fast," the Ranger said. He drew his gun and pointed it at Castle's head. "On your knees, buddy!"

Castle did as he was told. The Ranger was clearly sweating and he looked around nervously.

"OK, put your hands on top of your head. Do it now!" His voice cracked and Castle, despite his best efforts to prevent it, let out a small laugh.

"Something funny? What's this about a body?" He picked up Beckett's shield and read the number. "41319. Don't move, I'm calling it in."

He backed away from Castle, maintaining eye contact all the while and made his call. Castle was seething. He dared not call Beckett himself, as Ranger Rick, all twenty-one or so years of him, might have an itchy trigger finger. To make matters worse, an assortment of insects, their curiosity no doubt piqued by the presence of a new obstacle in their path, decided to scout the terrain and Castle was busy brushing the critters off himself while trying to maintain the appearance of a docile arrestee.

"HQ," the Ranger said, trying to sound important, "says this badge belongs to a detective Kate Beckett."

"She's my..." began Castle. The Ranger threw up his hands.

"You're under arrest for impersonating an officer. And let me give you a word of advice, scumbag. Next time you attempt this little ruse, try stealing a dude's shield. You don't make a very good Kate." He searched Castle and handcuffed him.

"You're a real piece of work, Ranger."

"Zip it! HQ says Detective Beckett is waiting for me at the pier. I'm taking you with me. She'll be happy to see I collared the guy who made off with her badge."

"Yeah, I can't _wait_ to see the look on her face."

* * *

><p>They arrived at the pier a few minutes later. The Ranger yanked Castle out of the car and led him to Beckett still handcuffed.<p>

"You Detective Beckett?"

"I am. What's going on here, Ranger?"

"I caught this guy with your shield." He handed it back to Beckett. "And don't worry, I searched him myself. He didn't have your piece on him."

Beckett flushed crimson and her eyes narrowed with rage. Castle smiled with satisfaction as he waited for the fireworks to begin.

"And how do you know that _I'm_ Detective Beckett? Did you ask for my ID? Did you ask for _his_?" Her voice rose with every word and she came close enough to the Ranger to realize that Old Spice mixed with nervous perspiration did not make for a good combination. "What kind of investigator are you? Why didn't you call me before you made an arrest?"

The Ranger's experience at ROTC summer camp hadn't prepared him for this kind of dressing down and he gulped and backed away. Beckett got out her ID and held it in front of the Ranger's face.

"Detective Kate Beckett!" she shouted. "Homicide. Now uncuff my husband _right now!_"

"Your husband?" the Ranger quavered. "Yes, ma'am. Right away."

"Now," Beckett said through clenched teeth, "the body is just off the end of the pier. From the looks of him, he's been down there for a while. Your next step is to secure the area and get the coroner over here. Here's my card. Call me if you need anything, but I want you to think really hard about it before you do. We'll be on our way. Good day, Ranger."

"Beckett and Castle," muttered the Ranger. "Different last names, but they're supposed to be married." Beckett decided to let it go, but Castle still had one more thing to say.

"By the way, Ranger, you never read me my rights."

Beckett stopped and took a deep breath before they continued the trek back to the cabin.

* * *

><p>The joy was gone for Beckett. What had started as such a wonderful vacation had spoiled quickly. Finding a dead body was bad enough, but watching Castle marched to her in handcuffs by a Ranger who still needed to buy Clearasil was the clincher.<p>

"Let's go home, Castle. I'm just not in the mood to make love again. At least not here."

"OK." He kissed Beckett and something caught his eye. "Looks like you got a string in your hair, Beckett. Let me get it for you."

He reached out, grabbed the string and started pulling. "Oops, not a string. It's...a hair. A long, blonde hair." He held it up for her to see.

"What? That's impossible."

"Yet here it is. Where could it have come from? Did you change the sheets on the bed before we slept in it?"

"Of course. Are you thinking there was a hair in the sheets?"

"It's the only thing that makes sense. I don't think it would have been floating around outside and just happened to land on your head. So that means," Castle grinned, "that your dad has a girlfriend!"

"No way, Castle. He would have told me. And even if he did, there's no way he'd bring her here."

"Well, that's my theory, and if you're right, then I'm stumped. Let's just forget about it and go home."

The drive back to Manhattan was uneventful. Castle slept most of the way and when they pulled into the garage at Castle's building it was just getting dark.

"Two more days of vacation," Beckett said. "I plan to spend the entire time in bed."

"Great idea, Beckett. I'll grab a bottle of wine and the remote."

"Screw the remote. I'm going straight to sleep."

* * *

><p>Beckett awoke to the sound of her dad's ring tone. "What time is it?" she asked, but Castle was still asleep. The phone rang again and she answered it.<p>

"Hi, dad. What's up?"

"Kate, listen, I don't have a lot of time. Remember my law partner, Kyle Williamson?"

"Of course. He went missing in December, right? Did he turn up?"

"In a manner of speaking. He's dead. His body was found yesterday, floating off the pier at Iroquois Lake, about a mile from our cabin."

"Oh, my God! Dad, Castle and I were there yesterday. I found the body!"

"It gets worse, Kate. I'm under arrest for his murder."


	3. Chapter 3

_Firefly_

_Chapter Three_

_It was a long, cold spring, courtesy of climate change. The lake, normally thawed by April, had only seen the last chunks of ice recede in late June. She waded into the water with scuba gear and a diving lantern and plunged beneath the surface. The light cut through the murky surroundings with ease, and after a few minutes spent tussling with the boulders, she watched with satisfaction and glee as the fisherman bobbed to the surface, his face exposed to air for the first time since that fateful day in December. It was remarkably well preserved, due, no doubt, to the ice. Perhaps it would fool the police into thinking the murder had happened recently, coinciding with Jim Beckett's latest visit to his cabin. If not, well, she could deal with that. _

"_Blunt force trauma to the head," she thought as she looked at the damage. "They'll find the shovel soon enough. One Beckett down, one to go."_

_The sun was just beginning to peek over the horizon. Even at this early hour, it was already warm. A few flies were already beginning to take an interest in the corpse, and she brushed them away with a sweep of her hand and a smile. The delight she took in this surprised even her, but there was no time to dawdle. She took one last look at Kyle Williamson and left the scene of the crime. _

_Again._

"What?" Beckett shouted, loud enough to wake Castle.

"Kyle was killed with a blunt object," Jim said. "They searched my shed and found my shovel. It had my prints all over it, along with some of Kyle's blood." Beckett could hear the tension in his voice and that made her nervous, too.

"Kate," Jim continued, "call Charlie Newberry at the firm. Fill him in so he can start the search for a good criminal lawyer. Also, I'm going to need you to see Deputy Frank Delgado at the Iroquois County Sheriff's department. He said he would talk to you as a professional courtesy. I have to go. They're about to take the..."

The line went dead. Beckett's breath was coming in hard, staccato bursts and she dropped her phone on the floor. This had to be the shoddy work of that child Ranger she had met yesterday.

"What is it?" Castle said for the third time.

"My dad's been arrested." She jumped out of bed. "Castle, will you make some coffee? I'm going to take a quick shower."

She ran into the bathroom before Castle could ask for details.

Beckett grabbed a thermos and thrust it at Castle, who filled it with coffee. "I'm going to need you to drive," she said. "I'll call my dad's firm while you grab a shower." She began frantically tapping on her phone, but Castle took it away from her.

"What are you doing?" she shouted, nearly hysterical.

"Slow down, Kate. What's going on?"

Beckett took a deep breath. "OK, so the body we found at the lake turned out to be my dad's missing law partner. Dad was arrested because they found the murder weapon in his shed."

Castle was silent. Beckett sighed and closed her eyes, deep in thought.

"That can't be a coincidence," Castle said. "Someone has to be framing your dad."

"Castle," Beckett said softly, "we'll talk about it on the drive. Right now, I really need to make a call."

The drive to the law firm of Beckett and Williamson, LLC took nearly an hour in Manhattan traffic. Beckett made a couple of phone calls and Castle, despite his best efforts, could not hear what she was saying, but the anger and fear in her voice were readily apparent. He pulled up in front of the office and he and Beckett were shown into Charlie Newberry's office the moment they stepped into the lobby.

"First things first," Newberry said. "I've put in a call to Leo Pulowski. He's a top attorney with over twenty years of experience and a crack research team. The retainer, though, will be considerable. Probably $50,000."

"Of course," Castle said. Beckett blanched, but said nothing.

"What else did Jim tell you?" asked Newberry.

"They found a shovel in his shed. It had blood on it, and his prints."

"They couldn't have gotten a search warrant that fast," said Castle.

"Actually, it wouldn't surprise me if they did," Newberry said. "It's such a rural locale that there's no actual case load. I called the coroner's office and the medical examiner said it was open and shut, so the judge would have approved the warrant on the spot. I also called the Sheriff's office and asked the local Deputy what the probable cause was. He said that there were only three cabins in a fifteen-mile radius. The other two owners consented to a search. That just left Jim's place. They couldn't find a number to call him, so they decided to search the cabin and the shed."

"That stupid Ranger should have called me," Beckett said. "I left him my card, but he was so inept that I threatened him. He probably told the deputies about our little chat. This is my fault."

"Nonsense," Castle said.

Newberry's phone rang. "It's Leo Pulowski," he said. "He's on his way to Iroquois County jail now to see Jim."

"Great," Beckett said. "We'll head up there and meet with him."

Newberry flipped through some notes on his desk. "That's really all there is so far. Now, Jim is a highly respected attorney, so the judge will likely set bail. However, for murder, it should be at least $1 million. Oh, what am I saying? You already know that, of course."

Beckett hung her head and covered her eyes with her hand. Castle put his arm around her.

"We'll take care of that when the time comes, Charlie," he said. "Do you need anything else from us?"

"Not right now. Besides, you'll be working with Pulowski from here on out."

"Well, call me if you need anything. We're on our way to Iroquois Lake." He held out his hand and Newberry shook it.

"I will, Rick. And don't worry, Kate. Pulowski's the best there is."

Beckett called Gates, Espo and Lanie on the drive back to the lake. Gates assured her that taking additional time off wasn't a problem and Espo said he and Ryan would be glad to go over the facts with Beckett, "off the clock," which meant that Gates must have been within earshot. Lanie said she'd be happy to be a paid consulting medical examiner for Beckett and give expert testimony if needed.

"Things are moving along," Beckett told Castle. "But I just can't get the picture of my dad sitting in a cell out of my head."

"Shouldn't be too much longer. We'll get him bailed out right away."

They arrived at the Sheriff's station an hour later and met with Deputy Delgado.

"You can talk to your dad in the conference room," said the deputy. "I'll bring him in, but I'll need your piece first."

Beckett surrendered her gun and she and Castle took a seat. A moment later, Delgado entered, pushing Jim Beckett ahead of him. The sight of her dad, in an orange jail suit and handcuffs, proved to be too emotional for her. She ran to him, sweeping him up in her arms until the deputy separated them.

"You know better than that, detective," he said. "Now, I'll be monitoring you, so don't do anything stupid. Let me know when you're ready to leave."

"So, dad," began Beckett, "who would have an interest in framing you for murder?"

"I can't think of anyone. I work on benign civil issues. I don't deal with violent criminals."

"Did Kyle take someone with him to the cabin?" Castle asked.

"The cabin? He didn't stay at the cabin."

"He didn't?" Beckett said. "Are you sure?"

"Sure, I'm sure. He would have asked me. He would have borrowed the key. In all the time I've known him, he never expressed any interest in going there."

"So he was murdered somewhere else and taken there, then."

"Jim," Castle said, "we found a long, blonde hair at the cabin. Are you seeing someone who might have done this?"

"Castle, I already told you..." began Beckett.

"I've never taken Julia to the cabin," Jim said.

"Julia?" Beckett sounded crushed. "Dad, you've got a girlfriend? Why didn't you tell me?"

"We've only been seeing each other for a few months. I'm not sure it's going anywhere, and I didn't want to tell you unless it got serious."

"And Julia has long, blonde hair?" Castle asked.

"Yes, she does. But she wouldn't do this. Things aren't wonderful between us, but they're not bad, either. No, I can't believe she'd do this to me."

"But we need another suspect," Beckett said. "Someone we can use to cast reasonable doubt in case this goes to trial."

Jim sighed. "Her name is Julia Robertson. She's a paralegal at the firm."

"Castle, we've got to get to the cabin and search it top to bottom. We need to turn up anything that could point to Julia and Kyle being there. We can assume they went there together, used the cabin, and Julia killed him and dumped him in the lake. Also, dad, we'll need to verify that you still have your key, which means he would have either made a copy or picked the lock. What time is your arraignment?"

"Three-thirty."

Beckett looked at her watch. "That gives us three hours. We'd better get started. She stood up and said "do you need anything, dad?"

"No, nothing. But..." He looked at Castle. "Rick, I'm sorry to ask you to bail me out. I'll find a way to pay you back. I promise."

"Forget about it," Castle said. "You're family. We'll see you at the arraignment."

Beckett called Pulowski on the drive to the cabin. "He's going to try to get the arrest voided," she told Castle, "on the grounds that it was an illegal search. There's no evidence to suggest that the murder weapon would be found within that fifteen mile radius. It's a long shot, but he has to try."

"Here's hoping," Castle said.

They arrived at the cabin a few minutes later. Beckett opened the trunk and took out gloves and evidence bags. As she handed some to Castle, he said "look over there." He pointed in the direction of the shed just off the northwest corner of the cabin. It was cordoned off with crime scene tape.

"Well, so much for checking the shed. At least we can still search the cabin proper."

She set an alarm on her phone and she and Castle got to work. They were quick, but thorough, and they cataloged their every step. By the time the alarm finally rang, they had four long, blonde hairs, bagged, labeled and ready for Lanie to work her magic.

The arraignment didn't last long. It started with the judge's reading of the charges. Then she made swift work of rejecting the motion to have Jim's arrest voided.

"We have to be reasonable, counselor," the judge said. "If fifteen miles is too limited, what's to stop you from saying Iroquois County is too limited? Or New York state? No, the arrest was legal. Let's talk bail."

The district attorney stood up. "Your honor, this is a murder of a well respected member of the New York State Bar. Although the defendant has a spotless record, the heinous nature of the crime requires me to request that he be held without bail."

"The D.A. said it himself," Pulowski said. "My client's record is spotless. His daughter, an NYPD detective is present. There is no flight risk here. We respectfully request bail."

The judge banged her gavel. "Bail is set at one million dollars, cash or bond. We're adjourned."

Castle took the bailiff aside. "Do you know if there's a local bail bondsman?" he asked.

"Not one who can cover a million bucks."

Castle sighed. "We'd better get back to New York," he told Beckett. "I'll arrange for bail and you can get those hairs over to Lanie and do whatever else you need to do."

"Yeah. Good idea, Castle." Beckett watched as her father was led out of court and she wiped a few tears from her eyes.


	4. Chapter 4

_Firefly_

_Chapter Four_

_Her ring tone broke the silence, bringing an instant smile to his lips. "Are you here yet?" he asked, almost before he had answered the phone. He waited to hear the song of her voice. Five seconds, ten seconds, twenty. This couldn't be good. "What is it?" he asked plaintively. "What's wrong?"_

"_You shouldn't have arrested that writer," she said through clenched teeth. "All you've done is given Detective Beckett a reason to look closely at you, and that will lead her to me." She pounded her thigh with a clenched fist, taking a perverse delight in the pain it brought to the already swollen and bruised flesh. _

"_What did you expect me to do? I'm a Ranger; I have a job to do. If I **didn't** arrest him it would look suspicious. I've done everything you've asked me to do, Julia. I even seduced that man and brought him here." He paused, waiting for her to respond. Five seconds, ten seconds, twenty. Her breath, even over the phone, betrayed a barely controlled fury. "Say something," he muttered nervously. "Tell me you're on your way here, so we can talk about this thing in person. I need that. I need to see you, hold you...kiss you."_

_The line went dead. "I'm here," came her voice from behind him. He smiled and spun around._

_The blow came so quickly he didn't have time to register fear. He laid on the ground and closed his eyes to keep the room from spinning. Then he slowly looked up at her and, through a mask of pain and confusion, wondered how much longer he had to live. _

_Five seconds, ten seconds, twenty. Her temper back under control, she raised the baseball bat high over her head and with a quick downward thrust, she finished him._

* * *

><p>"You're Jim's daughter?"<p>

Julia Robertson, a paralegal at the firm of Beckett and Williamson, LLC and mother of two took a seat in the interrogation room at the 12th precinct. Beckett cast a critical eye over her. She was striking, with deep, sapphire eyes and a quick, bright smile. Her blonde hair seemed to be the same length as the ones found in the cabin. She also appeared to be in her mid-to-late 40's, which was a great relief to Beckett as she had been irrationally worried that her father might be dating a college student. Robertson glanced nervously about the room. Beckett, of course, noticed that, but wasn't yet convinced that Robertson had anything to hide. Besides, she didn't want to spook Robertson, and with Castle off securing a bail bond, she had to play 'good cop' without the corresponding 'bad cop a la highly strung consultant' at her side. He was a pain in the ass, but he was _her_ pain in the ass.

"I am," Beckett said. "And I'm sorry to drag you in here, but as you know, my dad's been arrested and we need to account for his time so we can clear his name. This is informal, though. The investigation is being handled by the Iroquois County Sheriff's department, so there's nothing to really worry about."

Beckett slid a bottle of water to Robertson and she opened it and took a long gulp.

"If it's so informal, why didn't we just talk at the office?"

"We wanted to protect you. You and Charlie are the only ones at the office that know about the arrest."

"How is that protecting me?"

"Everyone at the office knows you're dating my dad, right? Well, once they learn the truth, they'll automatically think you had something to do with it, too. This way, if we can get to the truth quickly, we can defuse the situation by demonstrating my dad's innocence before the rumors start flying."

"Well, I don't know how much help I can be," said Robertson. "Jim and I have only been dating for a couple of months."

"According to the coroner, Mr. Williamson was killed about two weeks ago. Now we know already that my dad was in the office during the week, so right now, we just want to concentrate on the weekends. Were you together two weekends ago? Maybe he took you up to our cabin?"

"Cabin? No, I didn't even know Jim _had_ a cabin. We were at a hotel two weekends ago. The Coat of Arms, on fifty-third and fifth."

"A hotel?" Beckett said with an air of hostility that surprised her.

"It was the first time we spent the entire weekend together. Jim said he wanted it to be special. Room service, full-body massages, vibrating..."

"That's enough," interrupted Beckett. "You don't really need to give me any details. Did my dad pay for the room?"

"Yes, of course. He's quite the gentleman, your dad. Holds the door for me and everything. And he won't let me pay for a thing."

Beckett's phone buzzed with a text message from Castle. _The bond has been posted. Your dad should be released tonight. I'm almost there. See you soon._

_Thank, God,_ Beckett thought. She turned back to Robertson.

"I only have a few more questions, Julia. First of all, how well did you know Kyle Williamson?"

"Fairly well. He hired me four years ago. I've done research for him, filed documents, taken notes during interviews. Standard paralegal stuff. Kyle was a pleasure to work for. He really looked out for me."

"Did you ever date him?"

"Date Kyle? Of course not. He was gay, detective. It wasn't a secret or anything."

"I see. OK, Julia, thanks for coming in. Please don't tell anyone at the office about my dad. He's going to fill them in personally."

Julia stood up and grabbed the bottle of water. Beckett panicked momentarily until Julia finished the bottle and tossed it in a nearby trash can. Beckett waited until she was out of sight and then picked up the bottle with a handkerchief before calling Lanie.

* * *

><p>"You'll have to give it to Perlmutter," Lanie said. "He's covering for me since I called in at the last minute for a vacation day. I'm just finishing up at he Iroquois County coroner's office. Rick set it up. He produced a receipt that showed he paid me for an independent autopsy. The equipment here is hardly state-of-the-art, but I could have done this one with a magnifying glass and a tweezers. And that's bad news, I'm afraid."<p>

"Why is that?"

"Because even when a corpse is underwater, there's a certain amount of decay that occurs, and the amount on the body would have taken months to appear, not two weeks. Also the skin was frozen and then thawed. You can tell by how it stretched over the knuckles. The knuckles popped through the skin from the change in temperature. When did he disappear?"

"He was last seen on December 20th."

"Sounds about right. The lake would have frozen over and then thawed. Oh, and one other thing. He didn't die from the head wound - he drowned. There are bruises on his chest and legs, too. The killer would have weighed him down with boulders so he'd stay down there."

"Then the murderer had to come back to move the boulders," Beckett said. "Probably just before I found the body. And that means there might still be evidence there. Footprints, fibers, anything. Thanks, Lanie."

Beckett just had the elevator doors in sight when they popped open and Castle stepped out.

"Ready to go pick up your dad?" he asked.

"I am. And I have some news for you, too."

* * *

><p>"Sorry, detective," said Deputy Delgado, "I have to stay here while your father's release is processed. He should be good to go in a couple of hours, though. Maybe you can try to get Ranger Rick to help you search the crime scene."<p>

Castle chortled. "Wouldn't it be funny if that was really his name?"

"It _is_ his name. Rick McGraw. I have his card around here somewhere." He rooted around a desk drawer and produced a business card. "Give him a call," he said as he handed the card to Beckett, "but be prepared to come up empty. It's his day off, and he always leaves town for the weekend."

"I'd rather not," Beckett said. "Castle and I will take care of this ourselves." She had a thought.

"Any idea where he goes on the weekends?" she asked.

"Nope. But I have to admit, I haven't really spent any time thinking about it."

* * *

><p>"Nothing," said Beckett after she and Castle had spent an hour combing the area near the pier.<p>

"It was a long shot anyway," Castle said. "Who knows how many people traipsed through here when they were recovering the body? Anything we found would be impossible to trace anyway."

"Yeah, I know. It's just so frustrating."

They were walking back to the sheriff's office when they heard a siren approaching. The driver saw them and slammed on the brakes. It was Deputy Delgado.

"Sorry, Beckett," he said, "but there's going to be a delay releasing your dad. We've got a report of another dead body. Hop in and I'll take you to the crime scene."

"When was the last time you had a murder before Kyle Williamson?" Beckett asked during the drive.

"Never," Delgado said. "When word of this gets out, people are going to freak."

"This _can't_ be a coincidence," Castle said. "Who called it in?"

"Anonymous. And before you ask, there won't be a recording of the call. It came in through the general office number, not 911."

"Castle, call Ryan," Beckett said. "See if he can get the call traced. Deputy, would it be possible to have the body sent down to New York so our medical examiner can do the autopsy?"

"It would take a court order, detective, but I'll ask the D.A. To tell you the truth, we're hardly equipped to deal with one murder up here, let alone two, so it would actually help us out a lot."

They arrived at a small cabin a few minutes later. Castle spied the SUV he had ridden in the day before. "Looks like Ranger Rick is already here," he said.

"That can't be," Delgado said. "I didn't call him. How could he have found out? Unless..."

He took out his phone and searched his contacts. "12619 Pine Crest Road. Damn. This is the Ranger's cabin."

They approached the cabin slowly. The door was unlocked, and Beckett and Delgado entered, guns drawn. The body was face down on the ground. Delgado turned him over and they all said "Ranger Rick."

"Same damage to the skull as Williamson," Beckett said. "They have to be related." Her phone rang and she answered it quickly, had a short conversation, and hung up.

"Good news, Castle. That was Perlmutter. The hair we found at the cabin belongs to Julia Robertson. Now we have a reason to look closely at her. She _has_ to be involved in this."

"I agree," Castle said. "But if Julia Robertson is back in New York, who did this?"


	5. Chapter 5

_Firefly_

_Chapter Five_

_Five second, ten seconds, twenty...thirty. She found it harder to regain her composure, harder to leave behind the confusion and snap back to reality. She sat on the floor next to the body, took a deep breath, and calmly opened her backpack. She extracted an elegant fountain pen and a sheet of pink stationery and began to write. Her emotions, never far from the surface, flowed quickly and the paper was soon covered with words of pain and betrayal. She closed her eyes and grimaced, recalling past abominations, and furiously appended their descriptions to her confession in an act of self-administered penance. Soon her eyes grew heavy, her crimes receded in her memory, and her head began to dip slowly. A grandfather clock chimed loudly; her body shook and she snapped her eyes open wide and glanced about. The sight of Ranger Rick lying there dead with a smug look on his face enraged her, and she him turned over so as not to look at his face. The nap had renewed her purpose, and she grabbed the baseball bat and began to smash everything in sight until she was too exhausted to continue. _

_Her wrath temporarily sated, she lit a small candle. Using some thread, she took a pencil and bound a needle to it, leaving the sharp end an inch beyond the eraser. She held the needle in the flame until it turned black, then wrapped more thread around the now sterilized needle shaft, leaving only the very tip exposed. She dipped it into a vial from her backpack and watched as black ink seeped into the thread, slowly wicking upward. On the inside of her left arm, halfway up, were four vertical lines. She jabbed the needle into her arm repeatedly, forcing the ink into her flesh and completing a diagonal line that crossed the other four. Her tally now updated, she put her belongings into her backpack and left._

* * *

><p>"Someone really did a number on this place," Delgado said. "The violence didn't end with the Ranger."<p>

"This is personal," Beckett replied, "not a crime of convenience. Was the Ranger dating anyone?"

"Damned if I know. He kept to himself, detective. Still, this place is really out-of-the-way, and it would be easy for him to be in a relationship with no one the wiser."

"Any idea of his next of kin?" Castle asked.

"No, but the Ranger service will. They've got all his personal data. I doubt that they'd give that to you, though. If that's where you're going, that is."

"Yeah, that's what I meant."

They heard a siren wailing in the distance. "Reinforcements," Delgado said. "They won't be as understanding as I am, so you guys will have to go."

Beckett handed him her card. "Understood. We're going to go back to the station to wait for my dad to be released," she said. "Please keep me updated, deputy."

"I will, detective."

* * *

><p>"OK," Beckett said on the drive back to the station, "Gates is going to talk to the DA to get the body brought down to New York so Lanie can do the autopsy. Now we're going to have a lot better chance of getting dad's charges dropped if we can figure out who did the murder rather than just offering up Julia Robertson as an alternate suspect. So―why would she have done this?"<p>

"Are we still agreed that she didn't kill the Ranger?" Castle asked. "It's possible that she could have driven up here after you spoke to her to tie up loose ends if you spooked her. Either Rick knew who the murderer was or he was in on it. Maybe she was dating Kyle before your dad and Kyle dumped her."

"That's a pretty extreme reaction over a break-up. And it also means she was lying when she told us that Kyle was gay. And _that_ would be too simple to confirm. I tend to believe her."

"OK, we'll keep that in our back pocket. Here's another possibility: he had something on her. They work in the same office, so he might have heard some salacious scuttlebutt."

"Well, he wouldn't have been blackmailing her," Beckett said, "because he makes a better living than she does, but if he was threatening to get her fired or arrested, it might cause her to make sure he wasn't around to have it done."

"Beckett, I hate to say this, but your father's going to have to cough up some more information if we're going to make any progress. This guesswork just isn't getting it done."

"Yeah, I was afraid of that. I hope he doesn't freak out."

* * *

><p>After an hour sitting in the sheriff's office trading theories with Castle and getting nowhere, Beckett was relieved to see her dad standing in front of her. After a few signatures they started the drive back to New York.<p>

"Kate, I'm exhausted," Jim said. "Can't I just go to sleep for a couple hours? We can talk when we get home."

"Fine," Beckett said, exasperated. She was, of course, hoping that Jim would be able to shed some light on things during the drive, but he was out like a light.

"You should go to sleep too," Castle said to Beckett. "Your dad can spend the night at our place and we'll talk over breakfast tomorrow."

"Great idea, Castle." He took her hand, but she was already asleep, and he drove through the night, listening to her soft breathing and smiling in delight when her hand moved softly in his.

* * *

><p>They got an early start the next morning and Beckett got right to work.<p>

"First off, dad, is some bad news, I'm afraid. The hair we found at the cabin belongs to Julia Robertson. It's a DNA match. When was the last time you were there?"

"It's Julia's?" asked Jim. "There's no doubt?"

"None."

Jim cleared his throat. There was a faraway look in his eye and he swallowed hard a couple of times.

"I'm sorry, dad. Really, I am. But you need to focus. We need to prove it was someone else to get you off the hook."

"I was there a few weeks ago," Jim said. "But I didn't take Julia with me. I was just making sure everything was ready to go for summer. I was planning on spending a few days with her there soon."

"How many copies of the key do you have?"

"Three. One on my key ring in my pocket, and one in my work desk and my home study desk."

"We'll need to verify none of them are missing."

"No sweat, Kate."

"Have you lent the key to anyone?" Castle asked. "Maybe someone who was dating Julia and took her up there recently?"

"No one. The only people that have been there since Kate's mother died are the two of you and me. But that isn't really true, is it?" He paused and pursed his lips. "Could someone be framing her?"

"A possibility," Beckett said, "but we'd have to figure out the motive first. And if someone is framing her, it still means someone else had access to the cabin. Maybe a repair person?"

"Nope," Jim sighed.

"Dad, we'll need a roster of everyone who works in your office." She glanced at her watch. It was 7:15 AM, still too early for the paralegals to be there. "Why don't we head over there now? We can get started before Julia comes to work and interview her when she gets in. Maybe she can tell us how her hair got there now that we have confirmation it's hers."

* * *

><p>Castle and Beckett sat on either side of Jim as he brought up the roster of employees at Beckett &amp; Williamson, LLC.<p>

"Twenty-eight employees," Jim said. "It was twenty-nine until..."

Beckett covered Jim's hand with hers. "Does anyone stand out, dad?"

"No," Jim said. "Oh, wait. Yeah, the roster is a bit out-of-date. I guess we only have twenty-seven employees. Julia Davis was let go in February."

"Why?" Castle asked.

"She had grown increasingly flaky. Missing work, showing up late, insulting clients on the phone. She had been a perfectly fine paralegal, but late last year, her work began to slip. It got to the point where we had to let her go."

"Would she have access to your desk?"

"No, she wouldn't. I always keep it locked."

"What does she look like?"

"She's about five-two, with short, black hair. I don't know anything else, really, like what color her eyes are. I didn't pay much attention to her. In fact, I didn't even notice that she had become a problem until Kyle told me about it. I didn't think it was so bad, but Kyle felt otherwise."

"Did it get worse after Kyle went missing?" Beckett asked.

Jim thought about it for a moment. "Yeah, I guess it did. She developed a real short fuse. The littlest things seemed to set her off, and she'd go into the kitchen, close her eyes and take a bunch of deep breaths. It worked for a while, but at the end, she was barely keeping it together. When the board fired her, they urged her to seek help."

"Kyle was killed in December," Castle said. "If Julia Davis did it, that might explain why she started to flip out at work. Her conscience began to bother her and it got worse over time. Happens a lot, actually."

"Could Julia Davis have been jealous of Kyle?" Beckett asked. "Maybe he was dating someone she was interested in."

"If so," Jim said, "I don't know who it was. Kyle didn't talk to me about the men he was seeing. But being flaky hardly seems enough of a reason to suspect Davis."

"It's desperation time, dad. We have to investigate every potential lead. Castle, can you question Robertson by yourself? I want to go back to the station and look into Davis."

"Of course. I'll call you if I find out anything useful."

"So will I."

* * *

><p>"Rick, I want to tell you something."<p>

Castle wasn't sure how to react. He was about to leave Jim's office, having never felt entirely comfortable alone with him. It might have been because of his complicated relationship with his own father, and that made him feel guilty, since Jim had always been perfectly nice to him. He decided it was best to smile and try his best not to seem squeamish.

"OK, Jim," he said simply.

Jim scooted his chair a bit closer to Castle's. "It's Kate. She's never been the happiest person, and it only got worse when her mother died, of course. I've been worried about her for a long time. I always thought that she put too much emphasis on work and not enough on having a personal life. If she could just meet someone, then maybe she could finally find some peace."

Neither of them said anything. Castle's mind was racing, trying to find something to say. He was saved when Jim finally spoke up again.

"And she did. She met you, and I've never seen her this happy. She smiles all the time, and when she talks about you there's a joy in her words that was never there before. I just wanted to thank you, Rick."

"I'm the one who should be thanking you," Castle said "Without Kate, I'd be lost in the woods. Actually, I was, for a long time. I have Alexis, and I wouldn't change that for anything in the world, but she's on her own now and I rarely see her. Kate filled the void. In my life and in my heart."

Jim stood up, and when Castle did the same, Jim hugged him. It was a short, manly (they both thought) pat on the back.

"I should get to work," Castle said. He left the office with the personnel roster in hand, hoping that somewhere among this list of names, something would stand out.

* * *

><p>Beckett called an hour later.<p>

"Castle, I'm on my way to pick you up. Julia Davis was evicted from her apartment two weeks ago. According to the landlord, she hasn't paid rent in three months and hasn't been seen for two. All her things are in storage, and, since there's a missing person's report filed, we can take a look at them. Oh, and Lanie's doing the autopsy on McGraw right now."

"OK," Castle replied. "By the way, I got nowhere with Julia Robertson. She's still insisting she's never been to the cabin. I told her about the DNA, but she said someone's trying to frame her."

"Frame her _and _my dad? Makes no sense to me. I'll see you in a few."

There was a driving rain, and Castle, having been caught without an umbrella, was grumpy when he got his wet self into Beckett's car.

"When I left," he said stiffly, "Jim was talking to Charlie Newberry. He said he'll call you soon."

Beckett nodded. A short time later, she pulled into Aquarius Self Storage. She flashed her badge and the attendant gave her Julia Davis' unit number.

"Good thing I have a bolt cutter in my trunk," she said. The lock gave way easily, and Castle rolled the door up and turned on the light. The unit was small and even then, it was far from full.

"This shouldn't take too long," Beckett said, trying to sound cheerful. Castle, still wet, said nothing. They opened box after box, putting aside clothing, dishes and sundries.

"Jackpot!" Castle finally said. "Letters, pictures, bills...this should help us out." He handed Beckett a stack of pictures and he took the letters.

"Here's a picture of Julia with Kyle Williamson," Beckett said. She turned it over. "Halloween, 2014. That explains the strange get ups."

"Check this out," Castle said. "I've got four returned letters from Vienna. Looks like she mailed them and they were returned." He opened one and read the letter.

"Dear God," he said. "Julia Davis is more than flaky, she's insane. This letter is written to Sigmund Freud."


	6. Chapter 6

_Firefly_

_Chapter Six_

"_An Austrian passport, a ticket to the U2 concert on July 11th and"―she unfolded a piece of paper and handed it to him―"a copy of this car registration with my name on it." _

_He glanced at the paper. "Rick McGraw? He the guy whose car you lifted?" _

_She cast him an annoyed glance. "You're supposed to be a forger, not a cop. Look, I'm in a hurry. Can you do this or not?"_

_He sneered back at her, but business was business and he let the insult go. "Have I ever failed you before? Yeah, of course I can do it. For 300 bucks."_

"_Deal." She gave him the cash and began pacing around the dim, dingy room. He took a drag of a cigarette and blew the smoke in her direction. The smoke combined with the dim light was making her sleepy. _

"_Mind if I open a window?" she asked. "It's so dark in here." She yanked a curtain open and had grabbed the window lock when she felt his coarse hand on her wrist. He tore her hand away and shoved her. _

"_I like it dark," he said. "Besides, I don't need you giving someone out there a signal, do I? So just sit tight and this'll be done before you know it." He closed the curtain and pointed to a chair covered with newspapers. "No," he said when she started to remove them, "you don't want to do that. Just sit."_

_So she sat, and an hour later he was finished. He dangled the documents in front of her like he was offering a juicy bone to a hungry dog, but then snatched his hand away quickly when she moved to take them._

"_You know,"he began, "these passports are pretty tough to do, even with my brand-new laser printer. I'm going to have to charge you an extra hundred." He looked at her, perspiration beading on his face, his eyes narrowed in a nervous squint like he was expecting someone to break down his door any second. He took another drag on his cigarette, and though he didn't direct the smoke at her this time, it still reached her lungs. _

_Five seconds, ten seconds, twenty, thirty. She nodded and reached into her purse, digging around, counting and waiting, counting and waiting._

"_What the hell's taking so long?" he demanded. _

_The look on his face, like all her victims, was one of utter surprise. The shot propelled half his head through the air while the half still attached to his neck made a deep red streak down the wall as he slowly slid to the ground. She dropped Ranger Rick McGraw's service pistol next to the body, grabbed the documents and left._

* * *

><p>"Sigmund Freud?" Beckett asked. "Castle, take a look at this."<p>

She handed him the photograph she had just looked at. "This is Kyle Williamson. The beard is fake, and I'm guessing the cigar is, too. Doesn't he look like Freud?"

"Yeah," Castle agreed. "A Halloween party, right? Could she be delusional enough to think he really was Freud?"

"Maybe. But something doesn't make sense to me, though. Why would she follow him all the way to the lake just to kill him?"

Beckett sighed. "I don't know, Castle." She started flipping through the photos again.

Castle got out his phone. "I'm going to call your dad. I have an idea."

Jim answered on the second ring. "Hi, Rick. Are you with Kate?"

"Yes, she's here. You're on speakerphone. Listen, Jim, how long did you know Kyle Williamson?"

"A little over fifteen years. I remember he came on board shortly after his father died. It was just before the millennium."

"Came on board? He wasn't a founding partner in the firm?"

"No, that came later. In those days we were called Beckett and Snodgrass. When Sam Snodgrass retired, Kyle bought him out and we became Beckett and Williamson, LLC."

"In all that time, did Kyle ever tell you who he was dating?"

"No, we didn't have that kind of relationship. It was purely professional."

"Then how do you know he was gay?"

"I don't really know. It was just kind of accepted around the office, I guess."

"Jim, I need you to go home as soon as you can. Check your desk and see if the key to your cabin is still there. It's the only one not accounted for. And one other thing. Are your paralegals fingerprinted?"

"Julia Davis would have been. She was a notary public, too."

"Do you have the scans in your office?"

"Sure. It would have been part of her personnel file, along with a copy of her ID. We're legally obligated to keep them even after employees are terminated."

"Great. Please make a few copies, then check for the key and meet us at the station. Bring the copies with you, along with the scans of Julia Robertson's ID."

"OK, Rick." Jim hung up the phone.

"Castle, what's on your mind?" Beckett asked.

"I'll tell you on the way back to the precinct." He put the photos and letters back into their box and took it with him.

* * *

><p>Beckett pushed her chair away from her desk and let out an anguished sigh. "Castle, you were right. Deputy Delgado found a ton of evidence that a woman lived with Ranger Rick, including a container of birth control pills that had fingerprints on it. He's faxing them to me."<p>

"What'll you bet the prints belong to Julia Davis?"

"Not a thing; I agree with you. But I'm worried about something. Isn't this a little too easy? She would know her fingerprints are on file. Why wouldn't she wipe down McGraw's cabin before she left?"

"Because her grasp on reality is tenuous at best, Beckett." He turned his head. "Hey, here comes your dad."

Jim walked quickly up to Castle and Beckett and took them aside. "Kate, I need to talk to you and Rick in private. Right now."

They went into a conference room and closed the door. Jim took a seat facing Castle and Beckett.

"I went home like you said," he began. "I checked my desk and the key was there, but I think it was taken and put back. There were a few things in my drawer that were out of place. And there's something else. Leo Pulowski called. His team has been investigating Julia. My Julia, that is. He found out that she was raped about twenty-five years ago."

"Oh, no," Beckett said.

"There's more. The creep who raped her was acquitted. His lawyer was Kyle Williamson."

"Dad, you're in danger," Beckett said. "This shows that Julia had motive to kill Kyle. I want you to stay here with Rick for a while. I'm going to bring in Julia Robertson. Castle, can you check for that fax from Delgado?"

"Of course. Once it arrives, I'll have Ryan discreetly check it against the scans that Jim brought."

* * *

><p>Castle didn't have to wait long; the fax was already there. He gave it to Ryan with the scans that Jim provided. An hour later, the computer had finished its analysis.<p>

"It's definitely a match," Ryan said. "I'll have an APB put out for Julia Davis."

When Beckett arrived, Castle took her aside and spoke to her for a minute. He showed her the scan results and another photocopy from Jim's office and they went into the interview room where a clearly perturbed Julia Robertson was waiting for them.

"I thought I'd seen the last of this place," she said. "I guess not. What is it this time?"

"Let's start at the beginning. Your name."

"My name? You already know that."

"We thought so, but then we found this." Beckett slid a photocopy to Robertson. "Look at it," she said. "We got it from my dad's law firm."

Robertson looked at the sheet. "It's a copy of my driver's license. So?"

"Wrong. Look again. See the state motto of New York? It's right here," Beckett said, holding the paper an inch from Robertson's face. "Notice anything missing?"

"Missing?" Robertson's voice cracked under the pressure.

"It's supposed to say 'Excelsior' at the bottom. This one doesn't. It's a forgery. So...your NAME!" She slammed her hand on the table.

"I want a lawyer," Roberson said, crying.

"A lawyer? Why? You're not under arrest."

"I'm not? I can leave?"

"No, you can't. Deputy Delgado of the Iroquois County Sheriff's department is on his way here. He asked us to detain you. You see, he doesn't want to waste a lot of time hunting you down when he gets here. And _he's _going to arrest you."

"You see," Castle said, "we have _your _hair in Jim's cabin. And we have your fingerprints from that water bottle for a comparison."

He paused for a moment. The next part was risky.

"And," he continued, they're going to match your prints with those on the murder weapon and another murder scene, a Ranger named Rick McGraw. Oh why am I telling you his name? You know it already. You were sleeping with him."

"That's right," Beckett said. "You're going down for two murders, minimum. And that means you'll be doing some hard time."

"Unless," Castle said. "Nah, forget it. Let's go, Beckett." They stood up to leave.

"Wait!" Robertson shouted. "I didn't do this. You have to believe me!"

"We don't have to believe you," Beckett said. "We have the evidence the DA is going to use to convict you. Our part is done."

"OK, OK, my name is Melanie Davis. Can we talk now?"

Castle and Beckett exchanged a quick look.

"Talk about what?" Castle asked. "Do you know who really did this?"

Julia began to cry again. Castle offered her a handkerchief, but Beckett snatched it away.

"It's my sister. She used to work here. Her name is Julia Davis."

"Julia Davis is your sister?" Beckett said. "Why are you both named Julia?"

"I changed my name. We thought no one would suspect we were related if we had the same first name. And Julia was trying to protect me."

She started to cry, and this time, Beckett gave her the handkerchief.

"Melanie," Castle said softly, "we know about the rape and we know Kyle Williamson got the scumbag who did that to you off the hook."

"She's not well. She hallucinates, and she has major anger issues. I've tried to help her, but I just can't get through to her."

"So you became her accomplice instead," Beckett said. "She wanted to take revenge on your behalf."

Melanie nodded. "I can't take this anymore, detective. I just want it all to go away."

"It's way too late for that. How did it go down?"

"I realized who Kyle Williamson was, of course. I hated working in the same office as him, but with the job market so bad, I couldn't afford to quit. I finally told Melanie about it and she was furious. She wanted to humiliate him. I liked that idea, so I got her a job at the firm. She waited a few months, then started coming on to Kyle."

"So they were dating?" Castle said.

"Yes, they were. I said he was gay to try to protect myself, since you seemed to be suspecting me. They had been dating for a month. Kyle was out of town, returning on Halloween. They decided to meet at the office Halloween party. But..."

"What is it?" Beckett said.

"I told you she hallucinates, detective. She thinks she's living in the 1920's. She's been writing letters addressed to Sigmund Freud for a couple of years."

"Yes we found some of them." Beckett took them out of the box from the storage unit and laid them on the table.

"So, she went to that party as a flapper, but the truth is, that's how she normally dressed. And Kyle went dressed up as Freud. Julia thought it was really him, and that he had come here from Vienna just to see her. When she found out it was Kyle in a fake beard, she flipped out. She thought he was deliberately trying to torment her. Shortly after that, I was in your dad's office. I opened his desk and poked around. I just wanted to make sure that Jim was who he said he was. I didn't want to be Betty Draper in Mad Men. I found some pictures of him with you and your mom at the cabin. I found the deed, and with it, the address. I also found the key. That's when our plan went from hurting him to killing him. I made a copy of the key and gave it to Julia. She told Kyle it was our family's cabin, and they went up there in December. I haven't seen her since then. We haven't even talked."

Esposito poked his head in the door.

"Beckett, can I see you out here for a second?" he asked.

"Sure, Espo."

"Ryan put out a BOLO for Julia Davis," he said. "And I got a call from a detective in the 109th in Queens. She responded to a murder scene. Big-time forger and paranoid whack job. Hidden cameras all over the operation. She emailed me this photo. I think it's your perp. And there are a whole bunch of other pictures showing her shooting the guy from point-blank range. But they haven't made an arrest yet. They don't know where she is."

"Thanks, Espo."

Beckett returned to the interrogation room and handed the photo to Melanie. "Is this your sister?" she said.

"Yes, it is. Where did you get it?"

"It's from a murder that was committed late last night."

Castle looked at the picture and his mouth popped open in surprise. "Beckett, I think we found the smoking gun," he said. "Where's that picture from the party?" He rooted around the box until he found it.

"Take a look at her arm," he said. "See the three hash marks? That was in October. This picture was taken last night. Two more victims, two more hash marks. It's a tally."

"No, you're wrong," Melanie said. "That means she killed three people before Kyle. There's no way she did that. No way."

"There's one other thing for you to think about, Melanie," Beckett said. "If you never went to the cabin, and we found your hair there, then it was planted. That means someone is trying to frame you. And that someone is your sister."


	7. Chapter 7

_Firefly_

_Chapter Seven_

_The line moved slowly, and she was bored. She looked ahead and did a rough count. There had to be fifteen cars ahead of her. Time enough to add another line to the body count on her arm. _

_She was getting better with each tattoo, so the procedure went smoothly and quickly and she finished in plenty of time. Four cars to go. _

"_Patience, Julia. You're nearly there." She said it once for each car. Finally it was her turn. _

"_What's the purpose of your visit, ma'am?"_

"_The purpose? I'm here for a concert. I've been following U2 during their North American tour."_

"_Seems kind of risky. Unless you already have a ticket?"_

"_I do." _

_She handed the ticket over and he looked at it intently. "Uh-huh." He handed it back._

"_Are you bringing any animals or plants with you?"_

"_Nope. Just me."_

"_OK. I'll just need your passport and your ID." _

_He looked at them, held them under an infrared light, even smelled them. They passed inspection. The late forger had done his job well. _

"_Austria?" he said as he handed over her passport._

"_Originally. I was born there, but I've lived in the U.S. for more than twenty years now. I go home from time to time. Still have plenty of family in Vienna and Linz."_

"_Well everything looks good. Enjoy your visit to Canada, Miss Robertson."_

* * *

><p>"No way," Melanie said again. "There's no way in hell that Julia is setting me up." She looked straight at Beckett and twisted her face into a defiant glare.<p>

"Fine," Beckett said. "Time to prove it. Call her."

The defiance on Melanie's face disappeared instantly and was replaced with a pallid, worried look. "Call her?" she said slowly.

Beckett let her stew for a few seconds before she said "is this a difficult concept for you? Surely she has a cell phone. Call her! Make me a believer."

Melanie looked at Castle, presumably for pity, but he stood there stoically.

"She won't answer, detective. She hasn't answered my calls for months." Nevertheless, she got out her cell phone and hit a few buttons.

"Put it on speaker," Beckett said, "and let me see it." Melanie put the phone on the table and turned it toward Beckett. The contact she had chosen simply said "Julia." The phone rang eight times and disconnected.

"So," Castle said, "no answer and no voice mail. Are you still sure she isn't setting you up?"

Melanie turned her face away and started to sob. Castle took Beckett aside.

"What do you think?" he whispered.

"I don't buy it that Julia is framing her. I think they're in on it together."

"I do, too. I think they concocted this whole thing. We just need to hope that Julia can be picked up before the tally on her arm gets any longer."

There was a knock at the door. Ryan entered, with Deputy Delgado behind him.

"Detective Ryan brought me up to speed," Delgado said as he took a seat at the table opposite Melanie. "And I've been listening to you for a few minutes now." He opened a folder and took out some photos which he stacked into three piles, then spread out the first set in front of Melanie.

"Kyle Williamson. Beaten with a shovel to within an inch of his life and then drowned." Melanie looked away, but Delgado didn't notice. He moved on to the second set of photos.

"Rick McGraw. The coroner found splinters in his skull from a baseball bat."

"Rick," Melanie said. "I just can't believe it." She faced Delgado, her lower lip quivering, her eyes brimming with tears.

"You knew him?" Delgado said softly.

"Yes, a little bit. I helped him choose an engagement ring for Julia."

Beckett was livid. "You didn't react at all when I told you he was murdered," she said.

"I wasn't looking at pictures of his corpse then! Besides, I thought Julia was turning her life around. She seemed happy, and so did Rick."

"But you knew she had killed Kyle," said Delgado, "so Rick's life was in danger."

"Why? She loved Rick, and she hated Kyle. He was safe."

"Yeah, as long as he didn't do anything to piss her off!" Delgado shouted, his voice breaking in exasperation.

"Like I said―I thought she was turning her life around. I figured with Kyle dead that she'd dealt with the trauma that was causing her hallucinations. She had a real boyfriend, not a guy she was pretending to like just so she could kill him."

"Where did they meet?" Castle asked.

"I don't know. What difference does it make, anyway?"

"It might give us an idea of where Julia is right now. We know she was living with Rick, but she sure as hell isn't there now."

Melanie snorted.

"What?" Beckett asked.

"I guess that would explain why I haven't seen her since last year. I looked for her at her apartment in Queens a few times, but she was never there. She hasn't answered my phone calls, either. I filled out a missing person's report, but it didn't go anywhere."

"So where is she? Does she have someplace she likes to go to be alone?"

"How would I know? I think you've got the wrong idea about us, detective. We weren't that close. We didn't talk all the time, or eat dinner at each other's house or confide our deepest secrets to each other."

"Bullshit!" shouted Castle. "You planned a murder together. You helped her carry it out. And you're stonewalling right now to protect her, so cut the innocent bit and help us find Julia before things get any worse."

"I think it's time for me to get my lawyer," Melanie said, folding her arms across her chest defiantly.

Delgado stood up. "Melanie Davis, you're under arrest for conspiracy to commit murder," he said. He handcuffed her, read her rights to her and searched her.

"Two cell phones," he said as he removed them from Melanie's purse. "Why two?"

She shrugged. "Ask my lawyer."

Delgado opened his mouth to say something, but thought better of it. He finished the search and laid everything on table.

"Detective Ryan," he said, "can you put Miss Davis in a holding cell?"

"You got it," Ryan said. He took Melanie by the arm and marched her off to the hoosegow.

Castle had a thought. "Deputy, can you check Melanie's phones for recent outgoing calls?"

"Sure." He toyed with the phone for a minute. "One call on this phone," he said, holding up a battered iPhone, "and none on this one." He held up an even older phone to make his point.

"What's the name on the phone she made the call with? The outbound caller ID."

"It's Melanie Davis."

"Why would she put her real name on her phone? The only people who would recognize it would be her family. Beckett, are her parents alive?"

"Nope," Beckett said. "That's one of the first things I checked."

"That means the only reason for her to have that cell phone would be for her to call Julia." He paced back and forth a few times, the snapped his fingers. "It's a signal!" he said. "A warning to Julia so if she got a call from this phone, she'd know the shit was hitting the fan."

"Maybe," Beckett said. "But I don't know how that helps us."

"So," Delgado said, "with only the hair to go on, we can't prosecute Melanie for murder. We'll have to go with conspiracy, though even that falls apart if we don't find Julia Davis. But the good news is, with the evidence against your dad being circumstantial, and with Melanie's confession, you can expect the charges against him to be dropped."

"Thank God," Beckett said with a smile. Castle hugged her.

"Deputy," Castle said, "if you didn't have to transport a prisoner with you, I'd ask you to join us for dinner."

"Some other time, Rick." He shook Castle's hand and turned to Beckett. "Nice working with you, detective. I'll keep you up-to-date on the case. Especially when we find Julia Davis."

"How's that going to work?" Castle asked. "I doubt that she's still in Iroquois County."

"We'll get the FBI involved. Rick McGraw was a federal employee, so there won't be any jurisdictional hassles."

* * *

><p><em>Montréal-Pierre Elliott Trudeau International Airport was crowded. She pushed her way through the crowd and scanned a nearby departure board for her flight. There it was: KLM Airlines to Amsterdam and Vienna, departing at 16:30 and on-time. <em>

_She reached into her purse for a stick of gum and found the forged concert ticket. "I could probably get into the show with this," she thought as she admired the handiwork. She tore it in pieces and stuffed it in a trash can, then took a seat at the terminal to wait for her flight._

* * *

><p>"My God," Jim said after Beckett filled him in. "She was in on it with her sister? I can't believe it."<p>

"We still have two major problems, dad. First of all, Julia Davis is on the lam. That means you're in danger until she's caught."

"Why? She wanted Kyle dead, not me."

"She's unpredictable. And she's almost certainly killed other people before Kyle."

"I can hire a bodyguard to protect you," Castle said.

"No," Jim replied. "No bodyguard. I'm not going to stop living my life because of something so speculative."

"The other problem," Beckett continued, "is that there's no way to know for sure if they're going to be convicted. If Julia tries to pin it on Melanie, then it's a he-said, she-said case, and those are _very _hard to prosecute."

"You're telling me. But I'm not going to worry about that, either. And right now, I just want to go home."

* * *

><p>Jim's nonchalance was not shared by his daughter. She fidgeted all night, unable to sleep and, as a result, Castle couldn't sleep either.<p>

"Want to take a sleeping pill?" he said. "You need your rest."

"No. I just want to know that everything is going to be OK. I won't feel like my father is safe until they're both behind bars. And if anything happens to him..."

"It won't. I'll hire a bodyguard and tell him to be discreet. You father doesn't need to know."

Beckett smiled. "Thanks, Castle. That helps a lot. But...it's that she got away, and if it wasn't for some lucky breaks, my dad could have spent the rest of his life in prison. I just can't get over that, Castle. It's eating me up inside."

He put his arms around her and drew her close. "I'm sorry, Beckett, I really am. I don't know what to tell you except that sometimes the bad guys get away. We know what they've done, and we even who they are, but we don't know _where_ they are. It's awful, but you can't let it consume you."

Beckett smiled. "I know you're right, Castle. I'll just see if I can keep it together while we wait for the arrest. I owe it to my dad not to panic."

She fell asleep in his arms.

* * *

><p>Castle bolted awake, startling Beckett. "What is it?" she asked.<p>

"I just had a _Body Heat_ moment," he said. "Remember the letters? The ones we found in the storage unit?"

"Sure."

"They were written to Freud, right? Think about it. Julia Davis is psychotic. She has hallucinations. She thinks she's living in the 20's. She thinks Freud is alive."

"She's in Vienna!" Beckett said.

"Call your contacts at the FBI and have them call Interpol. The should be able to get the Vienna police to stand by at Freud's residence in Vienna―the one she used on those letters. I'm willing to bet she'll be there sooner or later."

"Castle, they're never going to do that. They can't set up an open-ended stakeout on the off chance that a murderer we don't even know for sure is in Vienna shows up there. Besides, what are the chances that she's using her real name? After that visit to the forger, she could have multiple ID's."

"I thought you'd say that, so I have another option all ready for you. My dad. His base of operations is in Vienna. I can email him a picture and, if he sees her there, he can have her arrested."

"Of course!" Beckett said. "This could work out after all."

* * *

><p><em>She got off the <em>_40 A Berggasse__ bus for the fourth day in a row and walked the short distance to __Berggasse 19. She looked up at the sideways sign and smiled. "He'll be here today," she thought enthusiastically. She absentmindedly scratched her arm, scraping her freshly chewed nails over the welts left behind from the tattoos__―all seven of them. She opened the door to the Freud museum and walked inside. Across the street, Jackson Hunt watched and waited._


End file.
